


On His Fiftieth Birthday

by Emejig16



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Parents, Fluff, M/M, POV First Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-05
Updated: 2017-03-05
Packaged: 2019-02-06 23:40:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12828600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Emejig16/pseuds/Emejig16
Summary: Phil turns fifty and reflects on the time he’s spent with Dan and all the things they’ve done together.





	On His Fiftieth Birthday

You said we’d never become one of those boring couples but as we sat in the family room at eight pm quietly reading our books I had to admit we were just that.

It was the night after my fiftieth birthday and you’d taken me out to a wonderful dinner, a simple date like the ones we used to go on before the days of making lunches and telling stories before bed.

As I looked across the table at you that classic smile and dimple still looked the same as it had over twenty years ago. Your hair was beginning to dust with grey but surprisingly still ample, falling neatly above your head despite your claims of it thinning.

I couldn’t help but rest my chin on my left hand as we recalled all of the memories over dinner for a third, fourth ,and maybe even fifth time. They all still felt as clear as the day they’d occurred, from the first night we spent together in London, to the Christmas evening where I proposed, through our wedding where I cried, and into our little family of five.

You said something I don’t think I’ll ever forget after I’d blown out the candle on the vanilla tart the restaurant gives for birthdays.

_“You’re getting old,” you said with a giggle._

I’m not sure why that was such a profound thing to me because that was clear as day. I’d stopped dying my hair and its normal auburn color was too starting to fade, less than you though, which always bothered you. I think it was because of the way you said it; it was almost whimsical, as if you couldn’t believe it any more than I did.

I feel like even in this quiet moment where all we could hear was the sound of the occasional turn of the page and the roar of a car passing by we both knew that wasn’t true.

Just the week before we were covered in poorly done lipstick and sitting with our pinkies out for a very important tea party with our granddaughter. And a little over a month ago, we’d gone on that trip we’d always wanted to take to Tokyo. Every morning, and on the occasional evening, we would go on walks and we still knew how to have a little fun at night.

But as I closed my book, deciding I had done enough reading for the night and looked over at you still fully immersed in your book, I decided that I would be perfectly fine in becoming one of those old boring couples with you.

After all, I’d already spent far too much of my time doing virtually nothing with you. What would be the difference now? Sure, we weren’t going to be lying on the floor of my bedroom dreaming of a future that seemed light years away but what would be the difference in doing the same over dinner. We we’re still going to watch our favorite shows together instead of going out, work and then come home and cuddle. Nothing had really changed except the whirlpool of life had finally calmed and we’d approached gentler waters.

And so once again you placed your book to the side and joined me on the couch, resting your head on my chest. I placed my hand over yours, intertwining our fingers as you turned on the T.V, quietly bringing the ring of my milestone to an end and shifting our sights to a new decade.

One that will hopefully once again be filled with the pitter-patter of little feet, more tears to be shed at weddings, sunny days in the park, more advice to give and wisdom to acquire, graceless slow dances to the songs that marked our early relationships, and the continuation of a love so timeless.

**Author's Note:**

> This drabble was originally written in March 2015.


End file.
